


Ace of Wands

by jinglebell



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Domination, F/M, Other, PWP, Pussy Worship, Squirting, copious amounts of bodily fluids, cw: use of the word cunt in a sexual context, dom!apprentice, julian is a desperate slut for the apprentice whee, sub!Julian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 10:25:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17579102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinglebell/pseuds/jinglebell
Summary: The apprentice fondly dominates a predictably submissive Julian -- who worships at the altar of their body. This particular apprentice has female equipment and uses they/them pronouns.





	Ace of Wands

Asra is gone and you have the shop to yourself. The night breeze carries the scent of incense through the open bedroom window. You plant your hands on Julian’s porcelain chest and shove. Hard. He stumbles back until his knees catch on the back of your bed and falls onto it in a long-limbed tangle. He stares up at you with eye wide.

“You talk a lot,” you murmur, unwinding your sash. “You flirt and flirt, but I think the truth is that you want to be taken in hand.”

Julian’s throat bobs. His face is flushed, breath shallow. He stares up at you, hypnotized as you shrug out of your loose shirt and expose your small, pretty breasts.

“Is that what you want me to do, Doctor Devorak? Take you in hand?”

Julian makes a strangled little noise in the back of his throat as you push your shalwar off your hips. It pools around your bare feet.

“If you want me to stop, I will do it right away,” you reassure affectionately, pinning away your hair and looking down at him.

Julian breathes, “No! No. Don’t stop now.”

So you straddle his slim hips, walking forward on your knees until your bare pussy is inches from his nose. Julian’s eyes go half-lidded and you can see him inhale your scent, not nearly as subtle as he thinks he is. He knows better than to touch. His warm breath and obedience go straight to your throbbing clit.

“Gloves off.”

Julian is tearing them off with his teeth before you can finish your sentence. Your heart races, and something deep in your belly tightens.

You can hear the smile in your own voice when you tell him, “Kiss it.”

Invited to look, Julian stares hungrily at your pussy, besotted. Spidery, long fingers skate down your hips. You have been aroused for a while, and slick gleams on your inner thighs. He holds you open with his thumbs, and his tongue glides over the blushing seam of your pussy. He takes kitten licks at first, greedily inhaling your scent between tastes. He swirls his tongue with aching gentleness around your clit and suddenly there isn’t enough air in the room.

High Priestess, how you’ve wanted this. Ever since you called his bluff and searched his body.

You roll your hips, luxuriating in the soft caress of his mouth. Julian’s technique is practiced -- in tune to even your most subtle responses. Your toes flex, your breath ragged. The angle isn’t quite right. You need more.

“Lay down,” you say crisply, but not unkindly.

Julian’s back thumps into the pillows. He is panting for you, every nerve in his body silently begging for it. You mount his face. He stretches up to kiss your pussy, but you move your hips away before it lands.

“Julian, did I say that you could do that?”

He whines and drops his head. You stare him down until his one good eye flicks away. You return to sink slowly onto his face— and he is the one who moans now. His tongues laps at your clit, swirls around it, licks and suckles until you’re gasping and writhing on his face. His tongue flutters and you groan long and deep. He eventually settles on the stimulation that produced the lustiest response from you and proceeds to abuse what little power he has, and it is the patient consistency of his worship that ramps you toward orgasm 

For his part, Julian’s expression is blissful. His eye is closed, eye patch somehow still in place, cheeks red and nose wet with slick. He seems content to take up permanent residence between your thighs. His shoulders are relaxed, hands kneading your ass.

The sight of him drives you wild, the sight of him and the way he flattens out his tongue and uses it to spread you open and gently fuck you with it. Distantly you are aware that you are moaning, deeply resplendent sounds. You reach down and knot your fingers in thick auburn hair, tug hard. Julian yelps against your pussy but doesn’t stop his worship. You hold him still - not like it was necessary - and rub your wet cunt deliberately over every centimeter of Julian’s beautiful face, until his cheeks, forehead, nose, chin, all of it, glistens with your slick. Marking him.

He purrs with gratitude. Bonelessly submits to your whim. He lives to be used like this. He’s been searching for it his whole life.

“Suck,” you sigh, blood howling in your veins. You guide his mouth and he obeys, lips like wet silk around the most vulnerable part of you. The pressure is too much, tight belly and clit, pussy swollen and aching, and you hold his face between sweat-slick thighs and grind furiously into that velvet mouth until the heat rises and rises and you gasp out your shuddering, powerful, perfect orgasm -- so intense that something aches and squeezes deep inside of you. Your groan changes into a startled gasp, an aborted shout as you squirt, your slick making an absolute mess of the bed, Julian’s face and hair and neck.

You fall forward over him, chest heaving, slick dripping obscenely from your swollen pussy. Julian is trembling below you, arm pumping furiously. You aren’t sure how long he has been masturbating. He stares up at you from beneath clumped wet eyelashes, dazed.

“Please!” he gasps. “Oh, Empress, _please_ \--”

“Not yet,” you whisper, sitting slowly back on his chest and staring down at him. “You’re so beautiful like this.”

He tosses his head in agony, hand shaking as he removes it from his cock -- so hard it’s nearly purple, the flat plane of his belly streaked with precum.

Gazing warmly down into his eye, you reach back and run your own shaking fingertips up the robust length of his cock. He throws his head back and strains, teeth grit, desperately staving off his orgasm.

“Not yet, Julian,” you whisper.

You lift yourself off of his chest and turn around so that your face is near his cock, your pussy hovering over his soaked face. You wet your lips and dip down to suck the tip of his cock into your mouth. He makes a strangled noise, a broken sob, and you don’t have to see his face to know tears are mixing with your slick cooling on his cheeks.

Julian is keening. He gleams with sweat. The muscles of his lean thighs flex and twitch, belly tightening desperately. “Oh, please, please I can’t do it, I can’t I can’t -- fuck, please I’m begging you, I need you I need it I need you please, _please_ give me it, I need it, I love you, I need it--”

You suckle the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue around the dribbling head. “Julian.”

“Yes!” his voice is destroyed, raw, stripped to the bone.

“Come now.”

His orgasm is immediate, a sudden gush of salty heat pouring into your mouth. Julian’s groan rumbles out and it impossible tell whether the sound is pain or pleasure. You hum in bliss, slowly taking a few swallows for your own satisfaction before turning around and drawing his still-shuddering form up, tipping back his chin to seal your lips over his and push his own hot cum back inside his mouth.

With salty lips you whisper, “Swallow it.”

He stares into your eyes, tears drying on his cheeks, tears of worship and adoration and satisfaction, and his throat bobs beneath the gentle weight of your small hand.

He swallows. He tips his sex-sloppy face into your palm, nuzzling into your palm.

”You are so good for me,” you whisper, sagging down onto the pillows. Your heart is so full. He is magnificent like this and you are so proud. No past lover had needs so compatible with your own. You think you may be slightly in love. The bedspread is a soggy sweaty mess. Julian turns, curling his impossibly long body around yours and burying his face in your hair.

“Thank you, darling,” he purrs into your neck. A pause, then, “...when can we do this again?”

You laugh. Blush. “Anytime. I think I’ll be keeping you around.”

And you do.

**Author's Note:**

> ... I like encouraging comments.


End file.
